About michele

Michele Fritz creates whimsically dark theatrical artworks based on real stories rooted in human inclination, finding one's place in the world; attempting to define character and moral compass. The narrative for her art is drawn from her own life, through overheard conversations, her previous work with kids within the Family Court System and the advice she wishes she had the wherewithal to stream into words when it really needs to be heard. She creates dimensional collages by interweaving pen and ink drawings, recycled painted images, preprinted materials and fabric. Michele's focus in creating is to meld together various textures and lines that have a confident direction with the illusion of great depth of field and a surface that is energized and structured. Michele, a graduate of Kansas City Art Institute, specializes in social art projects (art that utilizes public participation and online resources to create artworks). Her background lends well to social art making with 17+ years experience working in the fields of nonprofit community arts programs and administration, graphic design and the print industry.She is the proud co-winner of a 2012 Rocket Grant, awarded by Charlotte's Street Foundation and Spencer Museum of Art. Michele is also the co-recipient of an Inspiration Grant awarded by the Arts Council of Metropolitan Kansas City.

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Jess visited Jackson night after night through months and months of hospital stays peppered with surgeries and rehab and the occasional short stays at home. When he was home, Jess would dress and clean his wounds just as the nurses had trained her. She would wash his hair in a bucket placed beside the bed. She would play endless board games and hands of Gin Rummy. Months turned into a year.

Jessica's houseboat

She had almost forgotten how she ended up drifting in the ocean, without direction. It had been her plan to go on a great journey; pack up her meager belongings and go in search of revelations and great wisdom.

These days, Jessica dreamed of mooring her houseboat on the shore of an exotic place. To live in a boat community where neighbors are perfect and share frequent dinners and bottles of wine. But which shore should she pick? One never seemed right or more obvious than the rest. She feared the final decision. She only felt comfort in not choosing. This left her meandering and lonely. In desperation, she took out a slip of embossed stationary and a felt tipped pen.

I'm Fine...here on the couch

Soon it wasn't enough. No longer content, she wanted to find out what she might become. She became busy when the door sounded of knocking. She got annoyed with interruptions. Her friends noticed. They didn't show up for the few parties she did have. Her friends, so absorbed in how others viewed them, saw Jess as a personal threat. She obviously thought herself too good for them because she had her own place. Friends faded off slowly.

She wanted silence and here it was. Somehow the silence was louder than she expected. Even the next door neighbors seemed to have hushed themselves, stopping to listen to her silence. Her silence defined her aloneness, loneliness, even she didn't talk to herself anymore. She dreaded going home to be alone, to her place of supposed refuge. It was time to set some real goals. She was heading quickly into her forties and hadn't gotten any closer to doing things that she had dreamed of doing. Jess opened her favorite journal hard-bound in leather with a ribbon to mark the most important page. She laid the ribbon in the middle of the book and on that page wrote:

"I would like to buy thirty five dollar bottles of wine. I would like to never have to go to Dollar General or Aldis.I would like to buy my parents a nice house and be able to support them.I would like to have cosmetic surgery.I would like to donate to NPR....and I’m uncomfortably aware I may not be the person I hoped I would become."

Red Rooster Pub

Men crossed rooms just to smell her perfume; rehearsing the line they would use on her. Most choose not to speak to her directly, just mumble with a creepy stare as they walked close to her. They all knew she was out of their league; she was a trophy, too shiny and sleek to be amongst common men. Few said anything more interesting that the line they rehearsed for her. She was so lonely, so ready to please she gave herself to them anyway.

Samantha never had the knack for college. Teachers managed to make every subject bore her. She felt her looks were her qualifying skill set. With the diligence of a career woman, every night Sam would makeup her eyes and practice her smokey enchanting stare while she changed the sheets on her bed and put perfume on her belly. Sam met Chad. He was dashing, screeching up alongside her in a black convertible. He took her for day-long rides to the top of the mountain. Sleeping under the stars, she believed she had found the one that would take care of her for entire life. He bought her jewelry and told her he was her King. She quit school and devoted herself to him; she clung to him waiting to fill his desires. She forgot about bills and maxed out credit cards; there was no need to keep track any longer. Chad took care of everything.

Four kids later and and now his company is downsizing. He says he has to work hard to keep ahead of the game as he stumbles in at dawn smelling of liquor and sex. His eyes are vacant focusing on something she cant see. She's still got all that she ever had - the body, the hair, still willing to walk around in those tall buckled heels just for him. He walks through her. She is no one; invisible to the King.

All artwork images used on this website are the exclusive property of Art by the Yard. All rights reserved. Any other use of these artwork images, without the expressed written consent of the owner, is strictly prohibited. We would be happy to provide info/imagery for publicity purposes with use of credit bi-line. Please contact for more info.